


Don't I Know You?

by Nyghtlei17



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Anal Play, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5105258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyghtlei17/pseuds/Nyghtlei17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hero of Ferelden finds Alistair in Denerim after 3 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't I Know You (Part 1)

Denerim had seen better days.  It wasn’t often bandits rampaged through the Market District but they picked today of all days to do so.  “Guess they didn’t know the Hero of Ferelden would be comin’ today.  Filthy savages.”  Oghren grumbled as he kicked away debris from the bandit’s heist.  

“Don’t call me that”, she sighed.  

“Still runnin’ from whatcha are?  After all these years?”, he probed.  

 _Especially after all these years_ , she thought.  She never felt like much of a hero.  Not after what she did.  “Are you headed to the Tavern?”  She knew the answer already.  

“‘Course.”

“I’ll meet you there later”, she drew her hood over her head, concealing her identity just in case someone recognized her, not that she was sure if anyone knew who she was anymore.  She wandered through the city, seeing familiar sights that she hadn’t really wanted to see.  Anora had called for an audience with the Warden-Commander and there was no way Oghren was going to let her ignore such an honor.  

Maker, she hated that woman.  She’d never admit it of course but it was because of her that she lost him.  It was because of her she never saw him again.  “Apologies”, she said when she tripped over the leg of a beggar.  

“Sod off”, he grumbled.  She looked back at him, thinking his voice sounded familiar.  

The glint of an amulet around his neck drew her attention.  She turned on her heels and crouched down to his level.  “Do I know you?”, she asked.  His head was down, a tattered hood covering his face.

“‘Do I know you?’”, he mocked her.  The stench of liquor on his breath made her gag.  

“I don’t know, do you?”, she removed her hood, hoping he would look at her.  He didn’t.  “What’s your name?”

“Bastard”, he chuckled drunkenly.  

She smirked, “Well then, Bastard.  If you tell me your real name there’ll be a sovereign or two in it for you.”

“Paying a drunk for his name?”  He finally looked up at her.  Though they were bloodshot, there was no mistaking his amber eyes.  “Don't I know you?”, he didn’t mock her this time.  He squinted and studied her for a moment.  

She wanted it to be him.  She just didn’t want to see him like this.  “I think you do”, she smiled.  A knot was beginning to form in her throat.  Look what I’ve done, she thought.  His hair was at his shoulders, his beard the thickest it had ever been.  “Alistair”, she cooed.

“Ha.  I told you it’s Bastard now.”

She reached a hand out but stopped just before she touched him.  “This is my fault.”

He laughed, a terrible rumbling sound that came from deep in his chest, “You’d be right on that account.”

She winced at the truth.  “Would you have rather I let you die?”

“Yeah”, he whispered.  

“Get up!”, she demanded.  She wasn’t sure what she was doing.  She wasn’t sure how she was going to fix this but she had to try.  

“I don’t take orders from elves”, he snarled.  “Last time I did that I do believe I ended up in an alley.  Oh look!  An alley.”  

She rolled her eyes, good to know his sarcasm was still intact.  “C’mon Bastard”, she lifted him up, his hands callused in hers.  “You’re about three years overdue for a bath.”

He let her help him to the inn.  

She could’ve stayed at the castle.  Actually both the Queen and Oghren wanted her to but she just couldn’t bare to go back there.  Good thing she hadn’t, how would she have snuck him in there?

She filled the bath with hot water and oils she found on a shelf.  She poured every drop from every bottle hoping it would banish the foul smell coming from him.  He sat on the floor, his back against the door, his eyes lazily watching her fix his bath.   She sat on the edge of the tub, her hand dangling in the water.  “Come here”, she beckoned him.  

He groaned as he lifted himself from the floor.  She helped him out of his tattered clothes.  Her eyes grazed over his body, his once muscled stomach was still flat but that was all it was.  His arms didn’t have the strength they once did, she doubted he could even use a sword anymore.  “You’re staring”, he mumbled.  

“Sorry”, she turned away as he dropped his breeches and slipped into the water.  “Here let me.”  She cupped her hands and dipped them in the water.  She spilled it over the crown of his head.  His hair was red once, a brilliant color that she envied.  Now it was brown, matted with dirt and Maker knows what else.  She took the dagger she had holstered at her ankle and cut his hair until it was short, like she remembered.  “Much better”, she smiled.

He looked up at her with empty eyes.  “Why are you helping me?”, he groaned.  

“Because this is my fault.”

“You’re damn right it is”, he snorted.  

She grabbed his beard, yanking his face up towards her, he hissed in pain.  “I didn’t tell you to leave!”

He pulled away from her, “You let him live!”  

“I couldn’t kill the man in front of his daughter!”, she snapped.  

“I could’ve!”, he argued.  “I wanted it and you took it away from me!”

The dagger was unsteady in her wet and oily hand.  “You would’ve taken his life and Duncan would still be dead.”

He disarmed her, faster than she thought possible in his condition.  He took the dagger from her pointed it at the hollow of her throat and pulled her by her hair.  The point of the blade dug into her skin.  “I didn’t want to bring him back.  I wanted my revenge.  Loghain sentenced us all to die at Ostagar.”     

The grip on her hair was painful.  “Then take it”, she said through gritted teeth.  “You can get your revenge now.”

He pushed her away and threw the dagger at a wall.  “I can’t kill you”, he rolled his eyes.  “You’re the Hero of Ferelden.”

She released the breath she’d been holding.  “I’m not much of a hero”, she said quietly.  “Hero’s don’t throw their companions away.”

“No”, he crossed his legs and propped his elbows on either side of the tub.  “They don’t.”

She retrieved the dagger and sat back on the edge of the tub.  Slowly she held the blade to his face.  He lifted his chin, allowing her to shave his long, coarse beard.  His hair clung to her when she finished.  He was starting to look like himself now.  

She scrubbed him with a rag until the clean water was murky.  “All finished”, she smiled as she tossed him a towel.  She turned away as he dried off.  

“Feel better?”, he asked as he sunk onto the bed.  “Your guilt all gone now that you’ve helped the drunkard?”

“How did this happen?”, she ignored his taunt.  

He smirked, an expression that would’ve gone unnoticed if he still had his beard.  “Oh you know, you start drinking to numb the pain and then you just keep drinking until you live in a different world.”

She didn’t look at him as he spoke.  “You could’ve come back, after Loghain died.”

He snorted, “I couldn’t have come back.  I would’ve killed you.”

She nodded.  She still couldn’t understand why killing Loghain meant so much to him.  She understood why he wanted him dead but why did it matter.  He was dead now.  “Why’d you come here with me?”

He sighed, “I don’t know.  Must’ve been the booze.”

“I’m sorry”, she squeaked.  

“I’m sure you are.  No one likes ruining someone’s life.”

“I didn’t ruin your life!”, she shouted.  “I protected you from becoming a monster!”

“Protected me?”,his tone was low and collected, which irritated her further.

“Forget it”, she threw her hands in the air.  “You’re impossible to talk to.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.  He stood, the towel covering his waist slipping a bit.  “Thanks for the bath and the trim.”  He reached for his filthy clothes.

“You’re not leaving”, she snatched the clothes away from him.  “Not until you listen to me.”  

His shoulders slumped, “What else could you want to talk about?”

“Sit down”, she barked.  He obeyed, reluctantly taking his place back on the bed.  “I don’t give a damn if you hate me or not.  I know what I did was the right thing to do.  I’ve spent three years trying to forget about you.  To no avail might I add.”

“Aw, she does have a heart”, he grinned.  

She smacked him across the face.  “Will you stop!  What is wrong with you?  Are you that bitter?  Are you that simple minded that you threw your life away because I didn’t let you kill someone?  You abandoned me!  Us!  We fought the Archdemon without you, the one who promised me we’d be together when all of it was said and done.”

“I never promised you that.”

“Oh really?”, she stomped away and retrieved a book from her pack.  She turned to the last page and presented it to him.  “Have all these years of drinking erased this from your memories?”  

He reached out for it, the rose pressed to the last page of her book.  “Why’d you bother to keep this?”, he asked sarcastically.  

She sank down to her knees in front of him, “Because I never forgot that promise.”


	2. Don't I Know You? (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...you don't mean that do you?"

“It would’ve been better if you had.”

“You know you don’t believe that”, she shut the book before he could touch the flower.  “You came here because you didn’t forget it either.”

“Oh yeah?”, he leaned back on his elbows and spread his legs a bit.  “You seem so sure of yourself.”

“I know you quite well, Alistair Theirin.”

He groaned.  “That’s my name isn’t it?  Huh… it’s been awhile since I’ve heard it.”

She got up and put the book away.  The room was silent, a stillness that normally she’d welcome but right now it was loud and intrusive.  The man she used to love was sitting on her bed, so close yet beyond her reach. Three years hadn’t made it any easier on her than it had him, she just came out looking and smelling a lot better.  “You can leave if you want”, she managed to say.  

When his response was a snore she smiled to herself.  Maybe when he woke up he’d be a bit more sober.  She went back out to the Market District to buy him new clothes.  Even if he hated her, he would surely accept them.  When she returned to the inn, he was gone.  She sighed.  What did she expect?  Was he to be waiting patiently for her return so he could apologize? She tossed the clothes onto the bed.  

The prick of something sharp against her back made her draw in a sharp breath.  His hand clamped down on her throat before she could fight him off.  “You think I came here to honor some silly promise?”, he hissed.  “I came here to kill you.”

She choked under his hand, her own clawing at him when he tightened his grip.  

“I should kill you”, he chuckled.  “I should take everything away from you.”

She squirmed in his grip, her feet trying to kick him, her hands reaching behind her to fight him off.  She was trapped.  With all her other options lost, she grabbed the dagger, ignoring the bite when it sliced her flesh.  She tore it away, spinning around to face him, he was still in his towel.  The dagger was pointed at his throat, if he swallowed his skin would be cut.  “Go on then”, she grinned.  “Kill me, Alistair.”  She flipped the bloody blade, giving it to him handle first.  

Her arms spread before him, defenseless, waiting for him to strike.  When he did, she smoothly dodged his attack and disarmed him once more.  She handed the blade back to him and repeated their movements.  “You can’t”, she chided him when she took it away from him yet again.  “You’ve grown slow.”  

She jabbed him in the nose with her fist and held the dagger under his chin.  He looked down at her, his eyes small slits.  “Do it”, he dared her.  

“I’m not a killer”, she brought the weapon down to her side.  When she turned from him he caught her with a rough hand on the back of her neck.  He leaned down, his lips close to hers.  As she tried to close the distance he freed the blade from her grasp.  She knocked it out of his hand and kicked it away before he could harm her.  “You’re not a killer either.”

He attempted to lunge for it, she slammed him against the wall.  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.  His only response was a slight twitch of his mouth.  His eyes focused on the floor.  “Alistair”, she nudged his nose with her own.  “Give up”, she breathed against his mouth.  

He took her by the throat again, switching their positions and forcing her to the floor.  His grip wasn’t hard, it was powerful.  She stared up at him, searching his eyes for who he used to be.  He was kneeling over her, his breathing ragged.  As she reached for his face, his hand slid down to her chest.  She froze, unsure of what he was doing.  She wanted to ask or stop him but she didn’t move.  He untied the laces on her tunic and forced his hand down it.  She drew in a sharp breath when his fingers found her hardening nipple.  “Don’t”, she protested quietly.  

He ignored her and continued to massage her breast, pinching her sensitive flesh between his thumb and middle finger.  She didn’t make a noise, she chewed the inside of her lip to make sure of that.  He was watching her face, waiting for an emotion, she showed nothing.  He forced her out of her top, violently untucking it and yanking it over her head and arms.  A shiver crawled through her when his tongue flicked the opposite nipple.  She pushed him away, her hand colliding hard against the side of his head.  She tried to escape him, crawl away and grab the knife.  

He dragged her leg with a growl and pinned her shoulders down.  With her knee wedged between them, she pressed it into his stomach, trying to lift him off.  He didn’t budge.  She groaned through barred teeth, “Get off.”

He laughed, his horrid breath lingering in the air.  “Come now, you don’t mean that do you?”  

She planted her feet flat on the floor and lifted her core off the ground.  She twisted to the left, knocking him over.  She scrambled towards the bed, thrusting her hand under it and retrieving her short sword.  He hauled her back by the band of her pants, flipped her around and stepped on her wrist before she could strike.  Her naked chest was heaving, her face flushed with fear and exasperation.  

“Who’s gotten slow now?”, he asked as he straddled her, the towel falling away from his waist.  He moved her hands to her sides, pinning them down with his knees.  She cried out when he dug into the fresh cut on her palm.  He grabbed the sword and put it’s cold edge on the pulse of her neck.  “Maker, how I’ve longed for this”, his smile was bitter, twisted, and dark.  

She didn’t fight him, afraid if she moved he’d cut into her and leave her bleeding on the floor.  She stared at the amulet dangling from his neck, she remembered when she found it.  She’d given it to him and never had she seen such a genuine smile on his face.  That Alistair, where was he now?  Buried under hundreds of fights, drunken stupors, and her betrayal.  She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes.  If this was what had to be done...  

The feeling of the blade ripping through her breeches made her eyes snap open.  His face was centimeters from hers, his amulet bobbing against her chin.  He was panting, his hand shaking as he traced her lips with his fingers.  Her mouth parted slightly wanting to call out his name but thought better of it.  He dropped the blade and freed her hands.  She didn’t try to escape him.  She swallowed hard when his free hand grazed her exposed thigh.    


	3. Don't I Know You?  (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has a thing for watching her with a sword.

She huffed, not sure which were shaking worse, his hands or hers.  She touched his face, smearing blood across his cheek.  He ripped her pant leg all the way down to her ankle.  He reached between her legs and tore away the thin fabric covering her mound.  His knuckles caressed her slit.  With raised eyebrows he made a snarky comment as he admired the back of his hand, “Still as much of whore as I remember.”

She didn’t deny it, his touch made her ache.  

He picked the sword off the floor by the center of the blade, her nervous demeanor returning.  He dragged the point down her stomach, letting it sit at her navel before he flipped it around, the hilt pointing towards her.  He spread her open, she groaned as he pressed the pommel against her opening.  Instinct told her to shut her legs, deny him entry.  The lust filled hunger in his eyes stayed her.  

He forced it into her in one motion, refusing to give her a moment to adjust.  He pulled it back, quickly thrusting it into her again.  Her back arched and her fists clenched at nothing.  He pushed the grip into her until the guard was resting against her lips.  

He crawled on top of her, leaving the sword sheathed inside her.  His cock rest on her belly as he leaned down to bite her bottom lip.  She forced his head down to her, separating his mouth with her tongue.  He taste of bitter, tangy liquor.  A flavor she would normally turn away from.  But this was him, after three years, it was him.  His tongue briefly glided across hers before he stopped her with a hand on her jaw.  

She wanted to grind her legs together, needing some sort of release.  The blade jutting out from her pussy kept her flat on the floor.  He moved up her body, resting his knees on either side of her shoulders.  His bottom hovered just above her chest.  He pinched her nose, clamping it shut, bidding her mouth to open.

He bent his cock into her mouth, not stopping when she reacted with a gag.  Her mouth watered, coating him in hot saliva.  He entered her throat with a sloppy sound.  She choked, her legs spasming and her fingers digging into his hips.  She couldn’t reach the hand on her nose and his other was holding her head in place.  She smacked his arms when he began rocking.  

He filled her until her lips were tickled by fine red hairs.  Her cheeks puffed out, trying to hold back all of her spit.  He released her nose, she drew in a breath and choked, her throat working to dispel him.  He moved away from her with thick ropes of drool and precum connecting her lips to his shaft.  

She took in air, tilting her head to the side to empty her mouth.  He removed the sword, wiping the leather grip on her inner thigh.  Through watery eyes she watched him lick the slick spot on her leg.  He bowed his head, his face disappearing into her folds.  He licked around her clit, building the tension in her even further.  “Please”, she heard herself pleading.  

His head shot up.  With moist lips he said, “Not beyond begging are you?”

She rested her head back on the floor.  “Alistair”, she wiggled her hips in his face.

The sound of the sword dragging across floor startled her.  He filled her with it again.  This wasn’t what she wanted but she wouldn’t protest.  He took the grip from her with a hollow pop.  He moved the pommel down, probing at the tight muscle.  She tried scooting away, refusing him entry to this hole.  “Be still”, he growled.  

“No.  Not there.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers”, he answered.

She cried out as he forced the weapon past the tight barrier.  “Maker”, she shivered.  He went back to her folds, lapping at every spot around her clitoris.  Hands rubbed through his cropped hair. Hips bucked against his mouth, desperately trying to direct his tongue to where she needed it.  Her moans echoed in the room of the inn.  She was teetering on the edge.  All she needed was for him to touch her there.  Just for a moment.  “Ah”, she yelped when he touched the tip of her swollen clit with his nose.  

He sat up, her tense legs relaxing back against the floor.  She was going to say something, curse him for teasing her, until his fingers filled her empty hole.  His fingers curled, petting the rigid ceiling of her cunt.  Her legs twitched, muscles involuntarily reacting to his motions.  She guided his wrist with her hand, forcing him to work her hard.  She was moving.  She didn’t realize it until she heard the metal scrapping against the wood floor.  Panting, grinding, moaning, and clenching, she was waiting to tip over that edge.  The flat of his tongue surrounded her nub, sending her spine into the air.  

Unintelligible words poured from her.  Holes clenching everything inside them.  Her thighs coming off the ground to close around his head.  He tossed the sword away and sat back on his heels to watch her convulse.  When the waves stopped coming he dipped his fingers in the puddle forming under her bottom.   He rubbed liquid on her slit with a satisfied grunt.  She went to sit up, his large hand on her chest kept her down.  “I’m not done just yet.”                   


	4. Don't I Know You? (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any man would miss this.

“Alistair”, she slurred.

His face was sent in a scowl.  

“What?”, she asked, annoyed.  

“Why are you letting me do this?”

She searched the room for an answer.  “What does it matter?”, she sat up and drew her weak knees into her chest.  “I missed you.”

He caught her fingers and casted them from the back of his hand.  Amber eyes locked on hers.

“Can we talk about this?”  There had to be a way to reason with him.  Make him understand why she did what she did.  

As he helped her from the floor he remained silent.  “I’m not in the mood to talk”, he spun her around.  Rough hands cupped her supple breasts and forced her bare back into his chest.  

She purred as he teased her nipples.  “Please”, she whispered.  “Let’s talk.”  A squeal followed as he pulled her ripped breeches completely off.  He wedged his cock between her slit.

“Talk”, he growled.  

“Maker!”  His cock filled her.  With hands on her waist he guided her movements.  

“C’mon”, he barked over her moans.  “You wanted to talk.”  

“Alis…”, she bit down on her lip.

“Tell me you were wrong”, he demanded through gritted teeth.  “Tell me!”

“N-no”, she stuttered.  His pumps were fast and shallow, leaving her with a great need to be fully penetrated.  He pulled her hands behind her and locked her wrists in his hand.  The other wrapped around her front, dipped between her folds to massage her swollen nub.  Her bottom pressed against his pelvis, burying him deep within her.  

Alistair shoved her away.  She stumbled and cried out at the sudden emptiness.  He stood before her with his arms folded across his chest, erection glistening.  “What are you doing?”, she sighed.  

“Tell me”, he ordered.  

“I can’t!”, she shouted.  “I wasn’t wrong!”

He raised a questioning eyebrow.  

“You can’t let it go.  Get _over it_ , Alistair!”  A Sharp nail jabbed at him.  “You’ve wasted three years of your life.  You’re a Warden, remember?  You don’t have much time left.   _I_ don’t have much time left.”  She grabbed his tight jaw and forced him to focus on her.  “I don’t give a damn if you hate me.  Just stop wasting time.”  Her hand struggled to close around the base his hardened shaft.  

A sharp breath drawn through clenched teeth gave away his desire.  Her strokes milked throaty groans from him, her other hand held his sack.  He tried to stop her but she swatted his hands away and knocked him to the bed.  

A coy smile on her lips as she mounted him, his member brushing along her sex.  The failed attempt to force her onto him visibly frustrated him.  She sat on his stomach, damp folds spread on his skin.  His tip poked at the small of her back.  Nails scratched over his nipples.  He arched, cock leaving a sticky trail on her flesh.  “Tell me you missed this”, she muttered.  Her digits walked up his torso until they settled on his clavicle.            

The hands under her bottom lifted her and dropped her onto him.  She jolted, a surprised Ah escaping her.  “Any man would miss a cunt as tight as this”, he half smiled up at her.  

Her hips rolled and rocked, she purred and he groaned.  He was deep within her, her hole missed being stretched and filled.  There was a hurried nature about their movements.  He was eager to meet her motions with his own.  With a grunt he bent his knees and raised his ass.  Her legs barely on the bed, she gripped his sides as his quick thrusts bounced her around.  

Eyes fluttered shut, her head tipped back as his hands fondled her mounds.  She thought she heard her name in his moans.  She tried to slow him, her thighs put pressure on his hips.  He brought her down to his chest, his arms encircling her frame.  Her cheek smashed against his chest, his pumps forced small gasps out of her.  

Shocked when he rolled over, satisfied when he pinned her under his weight.  Her lips locked on his.  A solicited groan emitted from him when he kissed her back.  He rammed into her and sent her further up the cot with his strength.  They came to the wall, he propped his hands on it and stared down at her while he fucked her.  

Sensual mewls and carnal grunts.  Her belly fluttered, a familiar flame ignited.  She clutched at the blanket under them when her pussy came down around him.  Her legs quivered, voice quavered as her climax rippled through her.  She arched, driving him deep into her cunt as pleasure overcame him.  With pulses he filled her.  She could feel his cum as it dripped down her cheeks.

 

* * *

There wasn’t much room on the bed for both of them.  They lie on their sides as the room grew dark with the night.  She wasn’t asleep, she listened to him snore against her back.  The hours passed like days before she let the Fade claim her.

She awoke to the sound of his footsteps as he wandered the room.  She opened her eyes enough to watch him as he dressed in the clothes she bought him from the market.  Her breath caught as he picked the sword from the floor and admired it in the faint moonlight from the window.  He turned his attention toward her.  She remained still.  

To her relief he smiled and turned away.  She couldn’t see what it was that he sat on the edge of the tub.  He opened the door with a quiet creak and shut it behind him.  She waited a few moments before she got out of bed.  What emotion she felt as she slipped the amulet on, she wasn’t sure.  She wanted this to be his promise.  The promise that he made to her long ago.  When all was said and done, he’d be with her again.  


End file.
